


Letters of Love

by WandaHart



Category: The Rolling Stones
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkwardness, Bullying, Crushes, Embarrassment, Fluff, Homophobic Language, It's not mentioned but Keith most probably definitely has anxiety, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Popular Mick, Shy Kieth, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:28:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24326518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandaHart/pseuds/WandaHart
Summary: Keith is a socially awkward loner with a crippling crush on Mick Jagger, one of the school's most popular. How will Mick react when all of this is revealed not only to him, but to the entire school?
Relationships: Mick Jagger/Keith Richards
Comments: 11
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really surprised at how fast this came together but I've had this idea in my head for awhile now. I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

Keith awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside of his open window, a sound that wasn’t so pleasant to his ears at six in the morning. He groaned and pulled the covers over his head in an attempt to block out the noise and go back to sleep, but it was too late. The combination of the pestering birdsongs and the sun’s morning rays seeping into his bedroom had woken him fully. After sitting up, a glance at his alarm clock informed him it was almost time to get up anyway, there was no point in trying to return to sleep.

He could hear his mother up and about as he got dressed for the day and he was pleased to see she had made him breakfast when he emerged from his room.

“Morning baby, I made you breakfast,” she said, ruffling Keith’s hair as he passed her on his way to the kitchen table. A plate of eggs and toast waited for him and his stomach grumbled at the delicious smell of food.

“Thanks, mum,” he said, taking a seat and proceeding to stuff his face. He only had about twenty minutes before he would have to leave for school. The walk was a little over a mile and he tended to dillydally along the way making it take even longer to get there. He left shortly after he finished his meal, kissing his mother on the cheek as he slid out the front door.

There were several reasons Keith took so long on his walk to school in the mornings. The reason he gave his parents was because he liked to be outside. It wasn’t a lie, Keith really did enjoy getting to experience the outdoors, to feel the breeze on his skin. It was calming, grounding almost. The main reason he dragged his feet on the way to school, however, was simply because he didn’t want to go.

School had never been something Keith enjoyed even as a child. He could still recall how upset he had been as a little kid when his mum would leave him outside the entrance of the school, how he would cling to her and beg her not to leave him. Over the years he had grown out of that of course, but that didn’t make school any more pleasant for him. He was still a pretty shy person and didn’t really have any friends to pass the time with. Classes were boring to him and the teachers weren’t able to wrap their heads around the fact that Keith was so smart yet so unmotivated. To him, school was a waste of time. He’d much rather be at home listening to his records or practicing the guitar.

“Hey, Richards!”

Keith winced as he heard his name being called and sped up his pace. Keeping his head low and his eyes downcast, he hurried down the sidewalk in an attempt to lose the boys he knew were walking behind him.

Keith was spun around suddenly and quickly by a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Oi, Dumbo, I’m talking to you.”

Keith didn’t even bother looking up. He knew who it was. Tom and James had bullied Keith mercilessly since primary school and were the third reason Keith liked to walk slowly in the morning. Normally, Tom and James got to school before him and he didn’t have to worry about their teasing until he actually entered the building and, there, the two boys couldn’t get away with so much because of the teachers being around. Today, however, he hadn’t been so lucky.

“Hey!” James hadn’t let go of his shoulder and was growing increasingly more frustrated with Keith’s refusal to answer him. “Have you gone deaf or something?”

When Keith once again didn’t even look at him, he squeezed Keith’s shoulder hard. James was always more violent than his older brother Tom. Where James liked to rough Keith up and make him feel like shit, Tom tended to be more laidback and watch from the sidelines. Not that he was innocent in the slightest. Keith knew it was Tom who urged his younger brother to focus his rage on Keith.

Keith hit the pavement with a ‘oompf’. Without warning, James had pushed him to the ground. Keith’s rucksack was ripped from his back and the contents were being dumped all over the sidewalk. Before he could even react, Tom was crouching down next to him and rifling through his belongings. He helped himself to Keith’s lunch and picked up Keith’s grammar book, flipping through the pages. Keith watched with an expression of defeat as Tom ripped out a large number of pages and let them flutter to the ground beside Keith. 

Seemingly satisfied, the boys continued on their route to the school without another word. Keith watched their figures disappear around the corner of the street before pulling himself off the ground. He collected his things, including the ripped pages from his book, and stuffed them haphazardly back into his bag. Even though Keith was used to this kind of treatment, it still hurt being picked on for no apparent reason. Keith couldn’t recall ever having done something to either boy that would warrant this kind of treatment. In fact, Keith couldn’t even remember a time he wasn’t being picked on by Tom and James.

Glancing down at his watch told him classes would be beginning soon. He picked up his pace and continued his journey. As much as he disliked school, he didn’t want to be late. The idea of showing up late to class filled him with dread, having all the other students gawk at him as he walked through the door and the teacher reprimanded him. Just thinking about it made Keith’s heart rate speed up and his stomach twist into an uncomfortable knot.

Thankfully for Keith, he arrived at his first class on time. He took his seat in the back of the classroom with seconds to spare. He took out his notebook and a pen as Mr. Henderson began the day’s math lesson.

Keith used the same notebook for all his classes, though it contained very few notes. Instead, the pages were full of drawings and some song lyrics. A majority of the lyrics were from songs he liked or were stuck in his head at the moment, but there were a few of his own in the book as well which Keith was quite proud of. There was also a section of his notebook dedicated to what Keith referred to as his “love letters”.

The love letters, all crammed into the very back of the book, varied in style and length greatly. Some were short little poems and others were long confessional ramblings that went on for pages. There were some that were simply a sentence decorated with hearts. What all these love letters did have in common was there subject: Mick Jagger.

If there was one thing that made school bearable for Keith it was Mick. They only shared one class together, fifth-period history, where Keith would gawk at Mick’s perfect form from the back of the room and try not to drool. His crush was unrequited, Keith was sure, because he was ninety-eight percent positive that Mick wasn’t even aware of his existence and that even if he did, he wouldn’t be interested. They couldn’t be more different. Mick was popular and had more friends than Keith could count. He had a lean body and full lips that drove the girls mad and made all the boys jealous of him. He was charming and polite and really smart too! Once, Mick had even corrected their history teacher on the date of the Spanish-American War which had impressed Keith greatly. Everybody in the school loved Mick.

_Oh, how I wish I could hold you.  
Oh, how I wish you were mine._

Keith looked down at the words he had just written and blushed. He looked around the classroom, making sure nobody was watching him and could possibly see the embarrassing words he had written. He flipped to a blank page and started a drawing instead, trying to shake thoughts of Mick out of his head.

****

The rest of the morning was slow-moving for Keith. He finished his drawing in his next class (which suspiciously ended up looking like a certain brown-haired, blue-eyed beauty) and zoned out completely during the other two, ignoring the teacher’s lessons and instead gazing out the window in boredom.

At lunch, Keith started another love letter. It was a long one, the type he wrote when he felt particularly sentimental. He stared at Mick from across the cafeteria as he wrote down his words. Mick was laughing and chatting with his friends, his lunch table full of people. Keith’s table was empty except for a Charlie Watts sitting a few seats down from him.

Charlie was the closest thing Keith had to a friend in school though they never really spoke to one another. They sat together at lunch and sometimes Charlie would greet him when he arrived at the lunchroom, but that was kind of all the interaction they had with each other. Charlie was a loner like Keith, but, unlike Keith, he chose to be so. Keith knew Charlie was more than capable of making friends and becoming part of the “in crowd”. Keith on the other hand, was definitely not. He was too socially awkward, too quiet, too weird for anyone to like.

Keith frowned as he thought about this. Looking down at what he’d written he couldn’t help but feel a little miserable. Mick would never like him, he knew. So, why bother? He shut his notebook harder than needed and shoved it into his rucksack. He laid his head down on the table, ready for the day to be over and to go home.

“Where’s your lunch?”

Charlie’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. The boy was looking at Keith with an arched eyebrow. Charlie didn’t normally speak to him, so Keith was pretty surprised at his question.

“I’m not that hungry,” he mumbled, not bothering to pick his head up from the table. His fingers traced invisible patterns on the wood. He didn’t dare admit how he let his lunch get stolen. His eyes flickered up as Charlie slid half his sandwich over to Keith. Charlie went back to the book he had been reading without saying a word.

Charlie’s kindness effectively changed Keith’s mood for the better and by the time lunch ended and fifth period rolled around, Keith was feeling significantly better about his day. Yes, it had sucked when James and Tom had ripped up his book and stolen his lunch, but there was no point dwelling on that. It was better to focus on the positives, like Mick who was currently sitting four rows ahead of Keith and telling some sort of joke to the boy sitting next to him.

Keith watched in fascination as Mick laughed and bantered with his classmates. It all seemed so easy for him, like he wasn’t even worried about potentially making a fool of himself. Keith had a feeling Mick didn’t care what anyone thought of him. He remembered back to ninth grade when Mick had joined the school’s dance team, an activity previously only done by girls. No one had given him any crap about it. In fact, everyone seemed to think it was “so cool” and thought he had such “great talent”. Not that Keith could blame them, he thought the same exact thing. It was just that Keith knew he would never be able to get away with breaking the social norms like that.

“Alright, class, take out your textbooks. Today we’re going to start our discussion of World War One,” Mrs. Thurman said as she entered the room, quieting the students and officially beginning the class.

Keith sighed softly to himself as he took out his textbook and opened it to the chapter Mrs. Thurman instructed them to. Then, under the guise of thoughtful notetaking he continued writing his love letter to Mick from earlier.

****

“Mr. Richards?”

Keith was snapped out of his writing by a ruler being slapped down on his desk and the voice of an angry Mrs. Thurman above him. He looked up to meet her irritated gaze.

“Mr. Richards, I asked you a question.” She stood in front of his desk, looking down at him with a raised brow. She was clearly waiting for an answer from him.

“What?” he asked, which sent the rest of the class into laughter. He looked around only to see his classmates staring at him, grinning at his misfortune of being caught not paying attention. He could feel his face start to heat up and averted his eyes back to his desk.

Mrs. Thurman sighed. “Mr. Richards, I asked if you could please explain the conflict over Bosnia-Herzegovina.”

He stayed silent, staring at her wide-eyed.

“Hmm, that’s what I thought. Perhaps maybe you’re too focused on whatever it is you’re writing?” Her voice dripped with false kindness and Keith rushed to cover up the words scrawled across the pages of his notebook. “You know my policy on passing notes in class, Mr. Richards. And that extends to,” she paused, clearly trying to figure out exactly what Keith was doing, “writing personal letters.”

The rest of the class snickered as Mrs. Thurman’s words caught up to Keith. She was an infamously strict teacher, but her biggest reputation came from her note-passing policy, making students read aloud whatever note they had sent at the front of the classroom. Keith quickly looked over to Mick, who was watching him along with the rest of the class.

“No, no, I,” Keith started to protest but he didn’t know what to say. All he knew was that he could not read what he had written out loud. That _could not_ happen. It would be the end of him. He was already viewed as a giant loser by the rest of the school. He didn’t want to be seen as a giant loser who also had a stupid unrequited crush on the school’s most beloved student.

Mrs. Thurman gave Keith a big fake smile. “I’ll tell you what Mr. Richards, if you can explain the conflict over Bosnia-Herzegovina than I won’t make you share your “notes” with the rest of the class.”

“I, um, it’s,” Keith floundered, trying to come up with an answer. He looked down to his open textbook trying to make sense of the words, but they were all blurred. “Please don’t, I-”

“Ha! He’s about to cry!”

“Quiet, Mr. Donaldson,” Mrs. Thurman scolded. “Do you have an answer for me, Mr. Richards?"

Keith felt like he was going to throw up. Blinking back tears, he shook his head. 

Mrs. Thurman sighed and for a moment it seemed like she might take pity on the boy. “Very well Mr. Richards, please go ahead to the front of the room.”

Keith opened his mouth, but no words came out. This could not be happening to him. It just couldn’t. This was all some dark and twisted nightmare. He would soon wake up in his bed, safe from all embarrassment.

“Now, Mr. Richards.”

It wasn’t a dream. This was really happening. He would have to go to the front of the room and confess his undying love to a classroom full of people. And Mick! He had to read his letter out to Mick!

He stood up numbly and slowly started to make his way to the front of the classroom. He was aware of everyone’s eyes following him as he went.

“Hey, watch it, Dumbo!” A voice called as he tripped over someone’s outstretched leg and stumbled. He felt his blush stretch down to his neck and he silently cursed his mother for making him cut his hair so short and showing off his ridiculously too-big ears for all to see.

Once at the front of the room, Keith stood facing his peers with his notebook clutched tightly to his chest.

“Please start, Mr. Richards. I’d like to continue with class,” Mrs. Thurman said, now seated at her desk. Keith looked at her with pleading eyes, silently begging her not to make him do this. She stared back with no empathy.

“Any day now,” Keith heard someone mutter.

He peeled his notebook away from his body and blinked at the words he had written. He could feel sweat gathering around the nape of his neck and under his arms. He swallowed hard before he began to speak, hoping nobody would be able to hear him or decipher his words.

“Speak up please, Mr. Richards,” Mrs. Thurman said, interrupting his mumbling.

Keith stopped and started again, this time speaking at a higher volume. His hands shook, making it hard for him to read the paper.

“Dear Mick,” he started. His voice wobbled and he bit his lip, trying to stop it. He cleared his throat and tried again.

_Dear Mick,_

_There are few things in life that make me feel like a child still. Waking up early on Christmas morning, finding a new favorite song, the sound of distant thunder. They all fill me with a sense of amazement, with child-like wonder. I get that same feeling when I look at you. The way your eyes crinkle up when you laugh, the way your hair curls just so, the way you always talk with your hands. It makes me feel pure, unadulterated joy. It’s a feeling I can only begin to describe._

_I think everything about you is amazing. Your voice, your smile, the way you walk with your head held high, it’s all so beautiful. I remember seeing you dance last year. I was walking past the gym while the team rehearsed. You looked so happy and free, like a bird. I remember hoping that you always felt that way. I remember thinking you looked like a movie star._

_I may not know you, but I see the kind of person you are, Mick. I see the way you try and cheer your friends up when they’re having a bad day. I see you take the time to give everyone the attention they deserve when they speak to you. I see you agree to a kick-around with your mates even when you’ve had a super long day. I see the way you give and give and give and never ask for anything in return. It’s funny cause I can’t think of anyone more deserving to receive something in return._

_One time I had a dream where we were flying high above the city. You were pointing out the stars to me, telling me their names. You would wave as we flew past them and they would twinkle in return, like the two of you were old friends. When I woke up, I was sad it was over. I’m not sure exactly what it meant, but I’m sure it meant something._

_The thing is Mick, you make me feel a funny way. When I think about you, I get this funny feeling in my chest, like my heart’s trying to escape. You make me want to smile. Hell, you make me want to dance. I wish you knew how much I love you._

The class was silent as a red-faced Keith finished reading his letter. He hadn’t known it was possible for a person to blush this much. He was holding his notebook in a death-grip and staring determinately at the floor below him.

Finally, the silence was broken.

“Oh my god, Keith’s in love with Mick!”

Shouts of laughter rang out from all directions and it took all of Keith’s strength to not run out the door. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears mixed with giggles of students. He raised his head slightly and risked a glance at Mick through his fringe. Mick sat at his desk, cheeks bright pink. He stared directly at Keith looking shocked. Keith quickly looked away, not wanting to see the disgust on his face.

He scurried back to his seat, ignoring the excited chatter of his classmates and not daring meet any of their eyes. When he made it back to the safety of his desk, he sunk low in his chair, ducking his head and trying to hide the tears that escaped his eyes. He was absolutely humiliated. No one would ever let him live this moment down. He was going to be the laughingstock of the school.

And Mick, Mick would hate him forever. Not only had he embarrassed himself, but he’d embarrassed Mick too. There was no way for Keith to even pretend he had a chance with him now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this ended up being a little bit longer than I originally intended but oh well! It's mentioned in the tags but there is some period-typical homophobia here and some homophobic language (just a warning in case you don't want to read that). Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! Feel free to comment what you think!

Keith had sprinted out of the school the second it ended. He kept his eyes trained on his shoes the whole way home, determined not to see anyone. He knew they would be looking at him, laughing at him.

After he had raced home, he burst through the front door and bolted to his room, ignoring his mother’s greeting and slamming his bedroom door shut. He laid down on his bed and buried his face in his pillow in an attempt to block out the rest of the world. He just wanted to be alone. He didn’t even want his thoughts for company.

“Keith, darling?”

Keith’s mother opened his door slowly and peeked her head in. She frowned at the sight that greeted her. Keith had curled up in a ball and his shoulders shook slightly with sobs. He did not remove his face from his pillow to look at her.

“Aw love, what happened?” she asked, softly. She approached his bed and gingerly sat on the edge of it. Her hand found its way to his back where she rubbed soft circles, trying to comfort the obviously distressed boy. “Did something happen?”

Keith didn’t respond. He was not about to tell his mum what had happened. She wouldn’t understand and he didn’t feel like explaining it to her. Besides, she wouldn’t be able to change anything. There was nothing she could do to make this better.

“Did you have a bad day?” Her hands moved up to his head, where she stroked his hair.

Keith hesitated but eventually nodded his head. Although it felt like the understatement of the century, Keith’s day had been pretty bad.

Keith’s mother hummed in response and continued to run her fingers through his dark locks. Minutes passed before she spoke again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Finally, Keith pulled himself away from his now tear-stained pillow. Wiping his eyes, he rolled over to look up at his mum.

“I kind of just want to be alone right now.” He felt slightly guilty shutting her out like that, but it was the truth. He didn’t want to talk about his day. He just wanted to close his eyes and pretend today never had happened.

Keith’s mother respected his wishes and gave him some space, but not before kissing his head and murmuring a quiet “I love you” to him.

Once she had gone, Keith got out of bed and put on his favorite record by Howlin’ Wolf. He then changed into his pajamas and tucked himself back into bed. He was exhausted from such an upsetting day and he quickly fell into a restless sleep.

****

Keith was shaken awake the next morning by his mother who was telling him to get up and get ready for school. He groaned and tried to pull the covers up and over his head, but she was having none of it.

“I know you don’t want to go Keith,” she said, ripping his quilt off the bed and exposing him to the cool morning air, “but school is important.”

Keith groaned and rubbed his eyes as she left his room, telling him once more to get dressed and ready while she made him some breakfast. Sitting up in bed, the events of the day before came rushing back to him. His stomach performed somersaults as the anxiety of returning back to school filled his mind.

He considered telling his mum that he was ill, but quickly dismissed the idea. His mother had already seen him this morning and knew that he was perfectly healthy. She would not fall for his lie. Then, he thought about ditching, but the possibility of being caught and getting into trouble only hurt his stomach more. There was simply no way around it. He would have to go to school.

The walk to school wasn’t bad at all for which Keith was grateful. The sun was shining and there was no sign of Tom and James, allowing Keith to take some time and try and calm down. He gave himself a little pep-talk on the way to school, telling himself that maybe he was being overdramatic, that he was making a bigger deal out of the situation than was needed, that everything would be okay.

But when Keith entered the building, all that went out the window. 

Whispers followed him down the hallway as he trudged to his locker. He tried not to pay them any attention, but it was hard. Girls giggled at him from behind their hands and boys blatantly stared, elbowing their friends and pointing as he walked by.

When he reached his locker, the sight of a crudely made sign was there to greet him. It was a drawing of him and not a very good one. The portrait accentuated his ears and his nose, making them larger than life, and his face was adorned with little dots which Keith assumed were meant to be acne spots or other imperfections. He had buck teeth and crossed eyes and the word “freak” was written in bold letters at the bottom of the paper. He removed the sign and stuffed it deep into his locker.

_And so, it begins_ , he thought to himself with a sigh.

Keith’s day did not get any easier. People continued to gawk at him and make cruel remarks under their breath. During first period someone had even taped a sign reading “kick me” to his back. Keith had noticed right away and had ripped it off immediately, cheeks blazing. He crumpled it up after reading its message.

Between second and third period, some boy Keith didn’t even know the name of had tripped him, sending Keith to the ground and the stack of books he had been carrying sliding down the hallway. No one bothered to help him up. A girl standing nearby had nudged one of his textbooks over towards him with her shoes, but when he looked up and tried to thank her, she pointedly turned away and ignored him.

By lunch, Keith was exhausted. Keeping his defenses up all day had worn him out and he was ready to go home.

“Hi, Keith,” Charlie said, greeting him with a nod as he sat down at the lunch table. At least _he_ didn’t seem to hate Keith. Or maybe he just hadn’t heard about what had happened yet. Though that wasn’t likely. It seemed like _everyone_ knew. Either way, Keith was grateful to have Charlie sitting nearby. It made him feel like less of an easy target. It made him feel less alone.

Normally Keith spent his lunchtime watching Mick, but he obviously couldn’t do that now. If anyone caught him doing that, the teasing would only escalate tenfold. Instead, Keith chose to sit idly and pick at his nails. He thought about taking out his notebook but looking at his last letter to Mick would only cause him pain. 

“Well, well, if it isn’t our good friend Keith,” a sarcastic voice drawled out from next to him, interrupting Keith’s few minutes of peace.

Keith’s hands drew still, but he kept his gaze downcast. He really didn’t feel like dealing with James and Tom today.

“Can I sit here?”, James asked, pointing to the chair across from Keith. He sat without waiting for an answer. Keith was aware of Tom’s presence as well, standing beside him. He finally looked up at James who wore a shit-eating grin. “You know, for someone with such big ears, you sure can’t hear very well, can you?” 

Keith remained silent though his gaze flickered over to Charlie who was watching the scene intently but made no move to defend Keith. Keith looked back to James who appeared to just be getting started with insulting Keith.

“So, is it true you’re a cocksucker, Keith?” James asked, still grinning maniacally. 

“What?” Keith spluttered, shocked by James’s question and its bluntness. 

“You heard me. I bet you’re thinking about my cock right now, aren’t you? I bet you’d love to suck my dick, wouldn’t you?”

Keith could feel the rare sensation of anger boiling up inside of him. Keith normally tried to stay level-headed during these types of situations, feeling it often wasn’t worth any sort of confrontation, but this time he couldn’t help but feel mad. How dare James say that to him? How dare anyone say those kinds of things to him? All the insults from earlier crept up on him making him even more upset.

James seemed to sense this too because he looked more than eager to keep pushing Keith. “What? Did that hurt your feelings?” He paused before adding, “Faggot.”

Keith was astutely aware of the tables surrounding him listening to his conversation with James. “Don’t call me that,” Keith said, voice low.

“What? Faggot?”

Keith wanted to punch the smug smile off of James’s face. “Don’t call me that,” he repeated, slightly louder. Then, before James’s could come up with a retort, “And don’t flatter yourself. I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”

James was clearly shocked at Keith’s comeback and if he was being honest, Keith was too. He had never stood up to James or Tom or anybody for that matter before. It felt good for a change.

James stared at Keith for a moment, clearly trying to come up with a witty response. “Whatever,” he muttered out eventually, standing up from the table and brushing past Keith angrily.

Keith smiled to himself. Though his victory was short-lived. 

Tom, who had been silently watching Keith and his brother’s exchange, finally spoke up.

“Nice, Keith,” he said, capturing the other boy’s attention, “but let me just remind you of something.” He took two steps towards Keith. “You’re not even worth the dirt on my boots.” He bent down into Keith’s space. “You should be thanking us for even giving you the time of day.”

Keith subtly tried to scoot his chair away from Tom. He didn’t want to reveal how intimidated he actually was of the older boy. Keith much preferred James over Tom because where James used petty insults and violence, Tom used cruel words that cut Keith to the bone. It was like Tom knew exactly how Keith saw himself and preyed on it.

“So, don’t go around acting all high and mighty Keith,” he continued, “because you are, and always will be, a loser, an annoying and ugly piece of shit.”

Tom smiled and ruffled Keith’s hair in a form of mock affection. Then, he backed away from Keith who, for a moment, believed Tom was finally leaving. But Tom still had more to say.

“God, why am I not surprised you’re a queer? And a dumb one at that. You honestly think someone like Mick would like you, would want to be with you?” He laughed. “Nobody would ever want to be with you.”

Before Tom could get another word in, Keith was off. He ran out of the cafeteria and down the hall, not waiting to hear if Tom had anything left to say. He rushed into a bathroom and hurriedly locked himself into the nearest stall. Sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet, he grasped at his hair tightly.

_Don’t cry, don’t cry_ , he thought to himself. _Please don’t cry_. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stop the onslaught of tears that were forming behind them.

_Nobody would ever want to be with you._

Tom’s words were still ringing in Keith’s ears and as much as Keith hated to admit it, they were breaking his heart.

“Keith?” A voice echoed through the bathroom.

Keith pulled his hands away from his face and listened carefully. A pair of shoes appeared at the bottom of the stall where Keith had tucked himself away.

“Keith?”

Keith recognized the voice.

“Charlie?”

“Yeah mate, it’s me.” Keith watched Charlie’s feet awkwardly shuffle in place. “Are you alright? Can you open the door?”

Keith stood up and straightened his clothes, trying to make himself somewhat presentable. No tears had escaped his eyes, but he was sure they were probably red and puffy anyways. He ran his fingers through his hair and opened the door.

Charlie stood looking a tad uncomfortable, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Are you alright?” he asked, seeming as though he already knew the answer.

Keith shrugged. “Not really,” he said softly. “Why are you here?” He couldn’t resist from asking.

It was Charlie’s turn to shrug. “To make sure you’re alright I guess.”

“But why?” Keith pressed. “We’re not friends.”

“I know,” Charlie said, “but you don’t deserve to have that said to you. No one does.”

“Well, thanks,” Keith said. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of Charlie coming to check on him.

“Keith, I,” Charlie stammered, trying to find his words. He looked as awkward as Keith felt. “I just want you to know that I’m sorry. For not sticking up for you. And I, I think you should know that I don’t care about who you fancy or anything. People should mind their own fucking business.”

Keith couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face at Charlie’s statement. “Thanks, Charlie.”

“Of course,” Charlie said, brushing off Keith’s appreciation like it was no big deal. He looked around the bathroom. “I work in the library after school. We can go hang out there till lunch is done.”

Keith’s smile only grew at Charlie’s offer. “Okay.”

Just like the day before, Charlie’s kindness towards Keith affected Keith’s mood positively. He and Charlie had spent the remaining minutes of lunch in the library on the second floor of the school. Keith had only ever been in there a couple of times so Charlie had shown him around the place, pointing out the best places to sit and explaining how to organize books using the Dewey Decimal System. At first, it seemed like Charlie was just talking to fill the void, but eventually their conversation began to flow more easily, and Keith was actually enjoying himself.

Keith learned that Charlie was actually a pretty cool guy. He liked jazz music (which, to Keith, wasn’t as good as blues, but still pretty cool) and even played the drums. When Keith revealed that he played guitar, Charlie had even suggested they jam together sometime. And although his morning had sucked and the rest of his day probably would too, Keith felt immensely happy spending his lunch with Charlie in the library because, for the first time, he felt like he actually had a friend.

After the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, Keith and Charlie went their separate ways but not before agreeing to meet each other in the library again the next day during lunch. Keith dragged his feet as he headed to history. This was the class he had been dreading most all day because not only was this the class where is stupid crush on Mick had been revealed, but also because he didn’t want to have to see Mick and relive the shame he had caused the both of them.

Entering his class, he kept his head down and moved quickly to his desk. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Mick was sitting at his desk, but he didn’t dare take a second look for fear of meeting his eyes.

Keith willed himself to concentrate on his textbook during class. He didn’t want to call any more attention to himself by having Mrs. Thurman call him out again for not paying attention. It was hard to maintain focus though. Twice, he caught himself staring at the back of Mick’s head and thinking about the other lad. He wondered what Mick thought of him now. Part of Keith wanted to believe that Mick wouldn’t think critically of him, that Mick wouldn’t care about a bloke liking another bloke. The rational part of his brain, however, told him that Mick most likely thought of him as the rest of the school did.

****  
The next few days continued in a similar fashion. Get to school, endure some pretty cruel remarks, eat lunch with Charlie in the library, and avoid staring at Mick at all costs. Keith had even stopped bringing his notebook to school with him. He really just wanted to try and forget what he had been forced to admit, though that seemed nearly impossible with all his classmates constantly reminding him of what had happened. 

Keith was also finding it quite difficult to move on from his crush on Mick. He had spent years pining over the boy and throwing all of that away now proved to be rather tough. He still spent his nights imagining conversations with him, he still slipped into daydreams about him during class, and he still loved him as much as he had before. Mick’s obvious rejection of his feelings hadn’t done anything to make Keith’s crush waver. The only thing he could do was try and ignore Mick as best as he was able.

It was fifth period, and Keith was once again doing his best to concentrate on the textbook in front of him when Mrs. Thurman’s strict voice pulled his focus to the front of the classroom.

“Mr. Jagger, just what do you think you are doing?”

Almost simultaneously, the class shifted to face Mick who was now frozen in place passing a folded-up piece of paper to his friend Brian who was seated next to him. Even Keith was watching, abandoning his stance on ignoring the boy.

Unlike Keith had been three days ago, Mick seemed unperturbed by Mrs. Thurman’s questioning. In fact, he was almost smiling as he answered her. “Oh me? I’m just passing a note.”

The class snickered at his response which seemed to anger Mrs. Thurman. She did not take kindly to being mocked.

“Mr. Jagger, do you think this class is some kind of joke?”

Mick entertained the class again with a dramatic pout and “no ma’am”. 

Keith furrowed his brows in confusion. What was Mick doing? It was common knowledge Mrs. Thurman favored Mick greatly due to his wit and intelligence. She probably would’ve let the note passing slide with just a warning if he hadn’t been so disrespectful afterwards. Why was he blatantly passing a note in the front row anyways? It was no wonder Mrs. Thurman had caught him; he hadn’t even bothered to pass it underneath the cover of his desk.

Keith thought he could see steam coming out of Mrs. Thurman’s ears as the class laughed at her expense for a second time. Mick laughed along with them which Keith found odd. In all the years Keith had studied him from afar, Mick had never seemed to be one who liked to get into trouble. At least, until now.

“Mr. Jagger come up here right now and read your note to the class. Then you can see me for your detention slip.”

The class “ooh”-ed at Mrs. Thurman’s demand. Keith felt bad as he watched Mick walk to the front of the room. Reading his note aloud the other day had been the worst experience of his life, and though Mick’s note probably wasn’t as embarrassing as Keith’s letter had been, it was still sure to be a nerve-wracking experience.

Mick didn’t seem very concerned though. In fact, there was a slight skip to his step as he determinedly marched up next to Mrs. Thurman’s desk. If Keith didn’t know any better, he would almost think Mick was happy about having to read his note, but that didn’t make any sense.

Keith swore Mick looked at him quickly before looking back down to his paper which sent Keith’s nerves into a frenzy. Something was up and Keith wasn’t sure he wanted to find out what it was.

Mick cleared his throat before he began to speak, voice steady and head held high.

_Dear Keith,_

_I know that the letter you read the other day probably wasn’t for anyone’s ears, not even mine, but I wanted to let you know what your words meant to me._

_Unfortunately, as you hinted at in your letter, I don’t really know you. In fact, and I’m a little ashamed to admit this, I didn’t even know your name until you read your letter. It makes me feel a little guilty because you seem to know me so well. I can’t seem to get your words out of my head. I wish I had a copy so I could read it again. It was really quite beautiful._

_I know everyone here at school has been giving you a lot of shit about what you admitted the other day, but I want you to know that I don’t feel that way. In fact, I think you were very brave for saying what you did and for being your authentic self._

_I know my letter isn’t going to sound as nice as yours did and that you might think it’s a little cheesy but it’s the best I could do. The past couple days I’ve been observing you and the way you act. I still don’t think I know you well enough though. Maybe we could get together sometime so I could get to know you better._

_Sincerely,_

_Mick_

Keith’s mind whirred as Mick finished reading his note to the class. Had Mick really just done that? Had he really just admitted that he liked Keith’s letter? That he thought Keith’s feelings were okay? And had he really just done all that publicly, sharing his letter with the entire class like Keith had been forced to do?

Before Mick went back to his seat, he looked past the rows of stunned faces to Keith. His cheeks were rosy, and his mouth was slightly agape. He was clearly surprised, and Mick offered him a small smile before sitting back down at his desk.

“Right,” Mrs. Thurman said, breaking the shocked silence that had come over the class. “I better not catch anyone passing any more notes.” She looked a tad uncomfortable. “If I do, I will send you straight to the dean.” She swiftly returned back to her teachings muttering something against her breath about “kids these days” and their “damn declarations of love”.

When Keith exited the room on nervous and shaky legs, he found Mick waiting outside the door for him after class was over. He’d had a feeling Mick would want to talk to him and tried to mentally prepare for it during the end of the lesson, but he still felt nervous about finally speaking to the boy who had held his affection for the past three years. He subtly tried to wipe his sweaty hands off on his trousers as he approached Mick, who was leaning on the wall outside the classroom.

Mick took notice of him immediately. “Hi!” Mick said, smiling broadly and pushing himself off the wall. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” He fumbled with his hands a tad, unsure of what to do with them. He considered extending a hand for Keith to shake, but the action seemed too formal after all they had already revealed to each other. He settled for placing them in his trouser pockets.

Keith smiled shyly. Maybe Mick was feeling shy about their encounter as well. He certainly looked it. “Oh. Um, hi,” he stammered. They weren’t exactly the words Keith had practiced in the mirror when he imagined finally getting to talk to Mick, but they would do.

“Look, I know we don’t have a lot of time to talk right now between classes and all,” Mick said, pausing to look around at the several students who were clearly trying to eavesdrop on their conversation, “or the most privacy.” He lowered his voice. “Will you meet me outside after school? By the tree next to the tennis courts? I just really need to talk to you.”

The proposition made Keith’s throat feel dry, so he settled for nodding instead which Mick reciprocated with another easy smile. 

“Okay, great,” he seemed relieved at Keith’s agreement. “I’ll see you later Keith.” He said, before winking at Keith and heading back down the hallway to his next class.  
Keith watched him walk away and tried to calm his rapid and excited heart.

****

The rest of the day could not have gone slower for Keith. Throughout the rest of his classes, his mind was filled with thoughts of Mick and what he had said to him, not only in the hallway but in his letter as well. He also spent a great deal of time thinking about what Mick wanted to talk to him about after school and away from the lingering stares of their peers.

Keith couldn’t help but be a little nervous as he thought about meeting Mick behind the school. People had proved to him again and again over the past few days just how cruel they could be and the thought of Mick pulling some elaborate prank on him crossed his mind. He tried to shake those thoughts from his mind though. He had to believe that Mick wouldn’t do that to him, he just had to.

He was practically shaking with nerves as he walked out of the building after the final bell had rang signaling the end of the school day. Rounding the corner, he instantly spotted Mick leaning against the trunk of the tree he had instructed them to meet at. Mick was fiddling with the straps of his bag and looking over across the tennis courts, away from Keith.

Keith cleared his throat lightly once he was within earshot of Mick to make him aware of his arrival. Mick’s head perked up and he beckoned Keith closer to him with another one of his beautiful smiles and a wave. 

“Hey, you made it!” Mick said. “Thought maybe you weren’t going to show for a minute there.”

Keith kicked at the grass beneath his feet before answering Mick. “Yeah, I had to go to my locker so,” he let his explanation trail off with a shrug of his shoulders. He had needed to stop by his locker to put his books away, yes, but his main reason for making Mick wait was the ten minutes he spent hyping himself up to actually exit the school and go find Mick. 

“That’s okay,” Mick said. He could sense Keith’s anxiety and softened his voice a bit. “I was just joking around.”

“Oh.” Keith didn’t lift his head to look at Mick, too worried about making a fool of himself to remember his manners. 

Mick didn’t pay any mind and continued speaking. “Well, listen, I, what I wanted to tell you was that I really did mean what I said in history. I think your letter was really beautiful.”

Keith looked up from his shoes. He offered Mick a coy smile. “You did?”

“Yes! It was, it was just so, so nice.” Mick furrowed his brows as he tried to find the right words to say. Keith found the expression adorable and tucked the image away in the back of his mind to draw when he got home. “That’s not the right word. It’s just, how do I explain it? It made me feel known, I guess. Like someone out there really got me, like you actually see me for who I am. When you read it, I was surprised because, I mean not only was it unexpected but, because no one’s ever said something so kind to me before. It really was beautiful Keith.”

Keith was sure he was blushing as Mick finished talking, but he was also smiling from ear to ear. Mick really did like his letter! 

“Well, thanks. I have a bunch more it you want to read them sometime.”

Keith instantly regretted saying it the second the words left his mouth. His ears felt hot as he realized that he just admitted to Mick just how deep his infatuation for him went. He prayed for the ground to swallow him up.

But Mick didn’t laugh at him or call him disgusting or run away. He just smiled another one of his pretty grins and took a step closer to Keith. “I’d love that,” he said, putting his hand under Keith’s chin and gently tipping his face up to look at him. “Maybe we could,” Mick licked his lips, feeling a little nervous himself. “Maybe we could go out sometime, like a date. I wanted to ask you in class, just to prove a point to all those assholes, but I thought maybe it would put to much pressure on you to say yes.”

Keith felt like he could faint. Whether it be from Mick’s hand on his chin or his invitation for a date, he did not know. He could barely think, nonetheless form a proper sentence. “Uh, um, yes, I would, yes, okay.” He felt like his brain was short-circuiting. 

“Here, I’ll give you my number,” Mick said, pulling a pen out of his rucksack. He reached out for Keith’s hand and carefully wrote down his digits on the back of it. Once he was finished, he blew on it gently to ensure the ink would dry and it would not smudge.

Keith examined his hand as Mick let go of it. Finding his voice, he spoke at last. “Thanks. I’ll, um, I’ll call you.”

“I’m looking forward to it. I’m free on Saturday, maybe we could go to the cinema. So, you should call before then.”

Keith counted the days in his head. It was Thursday. He’d have to call soon. He smiled to himself already excited to talk to Mick again. “Okay.”

They stared at each other silently for a few moments, both too caught up in the other to find anything else to say. 

Finally, Keith broke the silence. “Um, Mick?”

Mick hummed and seemed to snap out of his daze. “Yeah?”

“It’s just, I,” Keith took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. “Did you pass that note just so Mrs. Thurman would make you read it?” The question had been nagging him ever since history and he had to be sure what Mick had done.

Mick huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah,” he said, cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink. “I thought about just slipping it in your locker, but I figured if you could say what you said in front of everyone else than I could read my letter too. I don’t think Mrs. Thurman was very happy though.”

Keith’s chest felt tight with emotion. What Mick had done was possibly the kindest thing anyone had ever done for him. “You got a detention though,” he said, feeling a little bit guilty.

Mick shrugged. “It’s okay. It was worth it.” 

Keith couldn’t describe what took over him, but something about Mick’s words caused him to surge forward and press a light kiss to Mick’s cheek. He pulled away quickly and looked around hastily to make sure no one had spotted them. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be.” Mick said. He looked back towards the school building and sighed, checking his watch. “I should go. I have a detention to get to.” He looked back at Keith earnestly. He really didn’t want to leave. “Can we meet here tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Keith said, nodding. “That sounds good.”

Mick nodded before turning and began to walk away somewhat reluctantly. “Keith?” he said, turning around after a few paces, as if remembering something important.

“Yeah?” Keith answered, still rooted in the same spot.

“Bring your letters, okay? I want to read them.”

Keith just smiled. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I think this might be my longest story yet (so far)! Which is funny considering it's only two chapters. I do have some ideas for a sequel piece though! :))

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Keith! I honestly felt so bad for him while writing this. But not to worry, the next chapter with be a little more upbeat.


End file.
